So while we were screwing around this week, we took one of those silly quizzes on the internet to find out what our Game Of Thrones warrior name would be. This gave us a quite a laugh. Ready? Ava was Ava “The Virgin” Bright – Mother of Winter. The virgin? Really? Clearly, they don’t know about her two kids or that any temperature under 50 makes Ava declare it winter. Amylynn’s was incredibly apt. Amylynn “The Ghost” Bright – Lover of Sleep. It’s like they know her! Lover of Sleep! That’s awesome. Amylynn and the Family Bright leave for Disneyworld. Blogging will be taken over by Ava. Or there’s always the possibility that Amylynn’s OCD will run amok and she’ll blog from there. She’s crazy like that. Anyway, here’s the funny stuff from this week.

1. Lynx and Calico sitting in a tree… We love this story.  Near a Russian zoo, a cute stray kitty was very hungry. So hungry, she wandered into the lynx enclosure to steal a snack. Pretty brave, eh? Fortunately, the resident lynx was lonely. Well, lonely no more! Now they’re best friends, inseparable, cuddle buddies. The zoo has adopted the cat so that they can be kept together. Isn’t that adorable? We love adorable kittens of any size. We refuse to discriminate. We’re equal opportunity lovers of the fuzz. You can follow the jump to see a video of kitty lovin’.

2. Fuzzy opportunity times 3. These are black-footed kittens. These two and a brother were all born at the Philadelphia Zoo. We don’t know how this is possible, but it’s true–we didn’t know such animals existed. Now we know everything about them. That’s what gangs do before they plan a heist. They plan, plan, plan. These are the kittens we were born to have. They’re wild BUT they only end up around seven pounds when fully grown. No one would notice a seven pound cat as unusual. It’s not like they’re a tiger or anything. Oh, this is gonna happen. We’ve already ordered the Black-footed Kitten Chow from Amazon.

3. And now we take a moment for some bears. A mama bear and her two cubs have been running around Anchorage stealing pic-i-nic baskets just like Yogi and Boo-boo. Actually in truth, they’re lunch boxes they stole from kids at day camp. The Bandit is always losing his lunch box and this is the only excuse Amylynn is willing to accept at this point. And we’re going to need photographic proof. Even better would be an actual bear . Yep, we’re gonna need a bear with a lunchbox.

4. Cute little old ladies. They may not be fuzzy, but most of the time, little old ladies are cute. Especially when they’re 102 and they knit baby blankets for the babies in the neonatal unit at the hospital. Amylynn’s oldest was a preemie who got a blanket like that when she was in the NICU. We have no idea if this cute little old lady is the same one, but anything’s possible. We’re going to be old soon. Maybe we should learn to knit. With cat and bear hair. People will buy anything on Etsy.

5. Crappy coronation. Spain’s King Juan Carlos abdicated his throne to his son this week. Crown Prince Felipe is planning very low-key festivities. There will be no ritzy celebration. He feels that Spain is in an economic crisis and the people would not appreciate that sort of expenditure. That’s why the Sisters refused their invitation when it came by special messenger . We’re not flying all the way over to Spain for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Then we saw this desk in a news story. Look at this thing. Sweet Jesus! Sell the desk and then it’s caviar for everyone! That thing is UGLY.

Today is the day! I’m doing a little dance around my office.  Don’t worry, I’m not moving quickly or anything and a trip to the emergency should not be necessary. (Amylynn here ~ This is still doubtful. I’ve seen her try to walk across the office. It’s…funny)

What day is it you ask? Today is the last day of my self-imposed exile from sugar.  Yup, it’s day 30.  I do not owe the girl who lives at my house $500.00.  Ed couldn’t be more pleased to not have to divorce me over it. (Me again…It felt way more like 130 days)

The dictionary defines sugarcane as: a stout tall perennial grass (Saccharum officinarum) native to tropical southeast Asia that has a large terminal panicle and is widely grown in warm regions as a source of sugar

That’s incorrect.  Sugarcane should be defined as: a white granular substance native to The Quill Sisters pantry that has a large addictive quality and is widely known to cause great happiness when used in cake.

Here’s some things I learned while not eating sugar:

No matter what you read, you do not lose your craving for sugar after 48-72 hours.  It’s day 30 and I’d like some sugar.  I’d like it right now. I would have liked some over each of the last 30 days.  Did I say “some”? I meant I would have liked a LOT. I like sugar.  (Me again ~ this is the first I’ve heard of it. If she liked sugar so much she should have said something.)

I lost 6 lbs.  I can’t directly attribute this to my lack of sugar consumption because I also bought a rowing machine over the exact same time period.  The 6 lbs could have been from that.  Gods, I hope it’s from that and not the sugar. I like sugar.

The pain in my elbow went away.  I read that not eating sugar cuts down on inflammation all over your body.  Or it could be I stopped noticing that pain from all of the beatings Amy gave me over the last 30 days while I complained bitterly about not eating sugar. (Guess who ~ she not only complained bitterly, she also complained loudly, obnoxiously, and nearly constantly.)

I guess we’ll never know since I’m eating some cake tomorrow.  A whole cake. (Me ~ I’m buying)

Dave’s back!

I picked him up after his two 1/2 weeks in rehab. Or after his failed love affair. Or jury duty. Or Disney. Or his rollicking good time in Tijuana. Or whatever the hell he was up to.

I’ll be het thought he was at the spa. The Dodge Spa. Where everything massage costs $500.

Either way, he cost a freaking fortune so he better behave himself in the future.

When I went to pick him up there may have been tears–and not just from Dave. Ava hugged him. Or sorta. She was wearing white so that would have been stupid in real life. I know the mechanic was happy to see him go.

I’m certain he was tired of all the weepy phone calls. Dave’s a bit of a drama queen.

I really wish I was kidding when I tell you that I still don’t have Dave the Durango back yet. I have been promised tomorrow, but I’m afraid to get my hopes up.

So essentially, Dave has been having a hell of a vacation for over two weeks. We began to wonder what the hell he’s been up to.

Since it’s summer and they’re out of school, there have been various rugrats in our office.  Most of the time it’s not a problem, except that we don’t like them really knowing for sure that we don’t do anything around here. When they see that we do puzzles and watch movies then they seem to think they can come all the time. That’s not going to happen. They’d cramp our style.

Anyway, one of the children was here for most of the day. He belongs to Missy and he’s a good quiet kid.

So we thought we’d reward him for behaving himself by letting him go on a frozen yogurt run with us. We personally thought that was a reward. Apparently, his mother was concerned about letting him go anywhere with The Sisters and The World’s Greatest Receptionist. We think she was just concerned with him being exposed to our bad behavior.

Maybe she has a point.

We were loud and obnoxious when we got out of the car, but that’s typical. The Boy hung in there with us because he’s been raised to be very polite. You know the sort–No, ma’am, Yes ma’am.

“Okay,” WGR instructed. “The secret is to go in there like you own the place.”

“Yep,” Ava agreed. “That’s the way it’s done.”

We got in the yogurt line and served ourselves. This is the only place we want this to happen. Everywhere else, we need wait staff. We filled up our cups with yummy stuff and got in line.

Amylynn looked down at The Boy’s cup. There was a tiny dribble of yogurt and a bunch of marshmallows. “What the hell, boy? You get back in there and get some yogurt. What’s wrong with you?” The Boy dutifully returned a second later with a fuller cup. It was still measly. “You have five dollars for ice cream. Use all of it.”

We got back to the office and The Boy told his mother what lunatics we were.

“See that’s how peer pressure starts. They bully you with yogurt and then…”

Once again, The Sisters are a cautionary tale.

We’re pretty sure we’re never getting Dave the Durango back. It’s been two weeks. We’re starting to despair. Amylynn had a conjugal visit last weekend. She left him in the hot parking lot at the mechanic’s. He’s going to cost an outrageous amount. Like maybe selling a kidney will come into play. This makes Amylynn and Her Honey very unhappy. It’s made Ava conflicted. She’s had to cart Amylynn and her kidlets, Sassy and the Bandit, around everywhere they’ve needed to go, BUT Ava’s not actually driven anywhere. She makes

Look! He needs to cuddle.

Amylynn drive (This is true, I get out of the car when I get to her house and make her drive while I ask the children all manner of questions). That’s the part that makes Ava happy. If she won a million dollars the first thing she’d do is hire a chauffeur. Amy just wants Dave back. Here are some things that are funny.

1. Nothing good ever happens to us. We don’t live in Vail, CO. We’ve never visited Antler Lodge, therefore we were not present when the baby moose wandered into the Lodge. He got tired and just lay down on the rug in the lobby. This angers us. Not because there’s a moose in the house. The issue is that NO ONE was brave enough to pet it. NO ONE. The big brave men hid behind the glass and took video. We assure you – if a 1-week-old moose wandered into anywhere we happened to be we’d be touching it. We’d be offering it lettuce and snuggles. We’d be taking him home. What a bunch of pansies.

2. Honeymoon. Surely you’ve heard by now that it’s Friday the 13th, a full moon, and a honey moon. A honey moon is when the Sun is at its highest orbit, thus the moon is at its lowest so it keeps the moon close to the horizon making it appear amber-colored and HUGE. This is really rare. The last time a honey moon happened on a Friday the 13th was 1919 and the next time will be 2098. This calls for celebration. We’re going to rob a bank or something. Don’t tell anyone

3. It’s not our fault. Today is National Blame Someone Else Day. This happens the first Friday the 13th of the year. It’s a free for all! Remember, just because you blame someone doesn’t mean it’s their fault. It’s the bakery’s fault that all those donuts are missing. It’s the mayor’s fault that all those goats got loose.

4. Great lines from movies. We watched the weirdest movie today. You know how you see the cover on a DVD that has a million awards plastered all over the front and you say, “Here’s a good movie!” So you and your friends put it in your office player and all settle around the puzzle table and bring out the Fritos. And then something goes TERRIBLY TERRIBLY WRONG and there’s squealing and you’re watching the movie with your hands over your eyes because an alligator is being gutted and they show you its intestines. The only thing good about this movie was the following line, “I’m sweating like a pregnant nun back here!” That caused a great deal of cackling!

5. Bronzer. The Sisters are white. WHITE GIRLS. We glow. Enough that we could light 3rd world villages. Ava found the perfect bronzer. It’s called Bronze Glow for all you white girls out there and you can get it at Ulta. We bronzed ourselves at work and we’re pretty sure we can now go outside without facing derision.

The Sisters were driving to pick up lunch when Neil Young came on the radio leading to a discussion on armadillos.

Don’t ask.

Since the Sisters will be driving to San Antonio next month, they are kicking around the idea of picking up an armadillo.  Discussion ensued about what they eat (according to Amylynn, it is definitely not Chipotle but some type of bugs and such), whether one can be happily kept in a hotel tub, how does one coax an armadillo into a pet carrier, and are they best kept in pairs?

There was also some talk about the undesirable fact that they sometimes have leprosy and/or e coli. We figured we stock up on Lysol and baby wipes. We are nothing if not responsible.

That’s what everyone says. “Those Quill Sisters are so responsible.”

Texas is hot like our desert home so we think our weather will be okay for our new “kids”.  We’re going to put them in pajamas and berets. If we get two, as planned, their names will be Sven and Hans.

Clearly, some research is in order.

Okay. I’m going to tell you right now that this blog post is disturbing.

If you’re easily disturbed – Look away LOOK AWAY!

You’ve been warned. Alright, here we go.

Way back in high school Amylynn came up with the diet plan that involved voluntarily getting a tape worm. It all seemed logical–lose all kinds of weight while eating everything you want. WIN!

Then things got even better. Now you can get a simple antibiotic to cure yourself of that nasty parasite as soon as you hit your target weight. What could be more perfect?

The Sisters met with Kelli, the errant Sister, at the Church. She was appalled about a website she discovered–purely on accident–(uh huh) that sold tapeworms. You know I got right on there because I had to know.

This is where things get disturbing. This is your second warning. I’m just saying.

The website, which is mostly in Russian, will sell you a tape worm for $34.25. Here is the description:

All eggs guaranteed and fresh.  Collected at Владивосток Vladivostok Soviet prison camp in one liter slurry of liquid human excrement.  Mature tapeworm grows to up to 10 metres.

Please allow 12 weeks for delivery.  Use promply on arrival by applying to salad or uncooked food.  Do not refrigerate.  Contact Col. Dimiti Pushkin for delivery.  Please to accept cash only Euros or American Dollars.  No returns.

Now, if you didn’t read that well enough, I’d like to point out a few highlights. Let’s start with “one liter slurry of liquid human excrement.” What. The. F? Can this really go through the mail? What if it breaks open? All the Lands End catalogues would be ruined! How are you going to explain that to your postal professional?

Also, “Collected at Владивосток Vladivostok Soviet prison camp” gives me pause. Surely this has to be against the Geneva convention. Or any convention. I’m saying with absolute certainty that I have NO wish to be in any prison, but DEFINITELY NOT in a Russian prison camp if this is what’s going on over there.

Also, be aware–“No returns.” Seriously, no returns. WHO THE HELL WOULD TRY TO RETURN THIS? WHO? People are so disturbing.

They have no restrictions on exactly what you can use this tape worm for. They suggest: “Play pretty good joke on friends!” Which frankly sounds Chinese not Russian.

Well, honestly, that is one hell of a joke, don’t you think?

So my father’s been with us for a week now. It’s going pretty well. He’s been sleeping in The Bandit’s bottom bunk. My Honey is pretty sure our hound dog, Roscoe, is going to miss him terribly when he goes home.

I am having one distinct problem though.

I’m turning into Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory.

My father keeps sitting in my spot.

I sit at the far right end of the sofa next to the end table and the lamp. I can use the rolled arm of the couch as a nice spot for my laptop. The end table is piled with my stuff – research books, pens, pencils, notebooks, sticky notes, my broken iPad – the flotsam and jetsam of a writer. I can plug in my laptop and the cord isn’t in anyone’s way.

Apparently, he’s decided he likes it there.

I just got the developmental edits for my second Carina Press book and I need my spot back. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. I can feel it in my nuggets.

Like a lot of people, the Ava Bright family lives in a neighborhood with an HOA.  Generally, HOA stands for “Home Owners Association” but at our house it means “Hunting Obnoxious Anarchist”.  We receive several violation letters a year from the management company because, apparently we didn’t bother to read the 902 pages of covenants, conditions, and restrictions we were given before we moved in.  There’s a whole lot of stuff you can’t do at your own house.  And, more importantly, there’s an old man who drives around looking for this stuff so he can report you. (You can read the actual letter here – vistoso – maybe – we’re technical morons  – give it a shot.) We get lots of letters about weeds.  In our defense, everything looks like a weed in the desert.  We’ve also gotten a letter for violating the height of

Sneaky penguin

the low hanging branches on our tree.  Those branches are not allowed to grow as nature intended – they must be not less than 9ft from the top of the correct color gravel.  Our gravel is the correct color, just so you know. Our latest problem involves a penguin.  We’ve never received a photograph before with any of the letters.  Here it is.  Luckily, the letter specifically addresses the penguin that is in violation – “Penguin in Santa hat under your front window” – just so we don’t mix it up with the other penguins in our front yard.  Isn’t he the cutest penguin wearing a Santa hat you’ve ever seen? Instead of removing him, we’re going to put an American flag bandanna over the Santa hat.  Anarchist unit!